


Champagne For My Real Friends

by ypsese



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Atlantis Culture, Awkward Romance, Awkwardness, Cute, Dogs, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gentle Kissing, Love at First Sight, Major Character Injury, Protectiveness, Shyness, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ypsese/pseuds/ypsese
Summary: I never thought my day would start out with a dead man washing up on the beach.I never thought I'd end up falling in love with the dead man either.





	Champagne For My Real Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Aquaman is a blessing to this world and I won't stop writing about it.

~

I honestly didn't expect to see a dead body wash up on the private shores of my grandmother's beach house. I suspected neither did my Golden Retriever, Arlo.

I'd been going on a morning walk, picking up shells, watching Arlo sniff at random things and dig into the sand when the waves brought in a huge lump of a body.

I was sent into a panic almost immediately and followed Arlo over to the body, fumbling in the sand. It was a large man, glowing with muscles and covered in tribal tattoos. He was bleeding profusely, his arms cut like fishnet and his eyes bruised so darkly he looked like an eggplant.

"Holy shit, Arlo," I breathed out, staring at my doggo companion. The Golden Retriever tilted his head to the side and barked at me, his tail wagging softly in the sand.

"Jesus," I breathed out as my two sandy fingers found the pulse point on his neck. "He's breathing."

It took all my strength to drag him back to the beach house, Arlo trotting along beside me happily, like I wasn't about to have some random man die in my house.

I managed to flop him onto the couch, making sure his injuries weren't infected before searching the house for my medkit. Arlo sat by the man on the sofa, clearly disturbed by the stranger sitting on his bed, bleeding everywhere.

I came back moments later with the medical supplies and a chair from the dining room. I sat down carefully, making sure that he was still breathing before I started patching him up.

I started on his arm, cutting out a gauze to match the size of the lacerations. I cleaned the area with antibacterial wipes and carefully wrapped the bandage around his wrist, winding it up to his forearm.

I did the same thing for his other arm before I analysed the rest of his wounds. I didn't look like anything was broken, but his chest was profoundly hurt. The skin looked cut and tortured like Wolverine had dragged his claws straight down the man's chest.

I dabbed away all the dried blood, wipe down the cuts with antibacterial gel and then attempted to stitch up his wounds. This guy was lucky I was in med school. Otherwise, he probably would've bled out on my couch and I'd have some serious explaining to do with the cops.

Arlo whimpered from beside me, nudging my leg with his wet nose. I hushed him, trying to concentrate on stitching the bleeding man on my sofa. Once I finished threading the wound together, I wiped down the lacerations again and snipped away the twine.

I covered the bloody stitches with gauze and leant back, beads of panicky sweat dripping down my neck. A breath I didn't know I'd been holding escaped me as I looked down at my bloody hands.

I looked back up at the strange man. His face may have been heavily bruised, but it was still handsome. Long browny-blonde framed his face in tangly strands, speckled with sand. He was enormous, rippling with muscle and strength.

The tattoos that covered his body were like waves of the ocean licking at his skin. I couldn't really describe what kind of pattern it was, but it looked like reptilian scales and shark teeth.

I realised all to suddenly that I was kinda eye-raping him while he was unconscious on my couch. A flush came to my cheeks and turned away, scolding myself internally.

I sighed again, one hand resting on his wet denim jeans. Arlo sniffed at me, clearly confused by my actions. I turned to my dog and looked at him, in return he tilted his head, tail wagging in anticipation.

"I don't know what I'm doing Arlo," I confessed.

Arlo licked his nose, dark eyes blinking innocently. Talking to him even though he had no idea what I was saying seemed to calm me down a little bit.

I took another deep breath and stood up, heading to the kitchen sink to wash my hands. It took a while to clean all the blood away; it was under my nails and in the crevices of my knuckles. The water was hot, and the soap smelled nice, but I was incredibly distracted by the good-looking, unconscious man on my couch.

I came back with an icepack wrapped in a hand towel to see Arlo licking at the unconscious man's fingers.

"Arlo," I hissed quietly, swatting him away from the man's hand.

I sat back down and placed the ice pack on the man's cheek. I stared at his swollen eyes, the red bulging around his cheekbones. Someone had really done this guy in.

I let out another rushed breath as all the adrenaline finally left my system. I picked up his incredibly buff arm that had fallen off the couch and propped it up with a pillow. The man had these leather wristbands that ran up his forearms strapped to both of his wrists, along with some really cool rings and a gorgeous looking rock necklace.

I sighed into my palms, staring at his sandy beard, praying to all the Gods I  
could think of that he would wake up okay. I watched him for another moment, wondering what exactly had happened to him and why he washed up on the beach still alive.

I shook my head, dwelling on questions that might never be answered was useless. I decided I would try to get on with the rest of my day and hope the man would eventually wake up.

I made Arlo his breakfast and then started to whip up some scrambled eggs for myself. I flicked the kettle on, feeling Arlo sitting between my feet, dragging his tail on the tiled floor.

I stirred the eggs around in the pan, staring out the window at the dark shoreline and the heavy clouds in the sky. A storm was coming and it was going to be intense.

I poured some cheese, chives and mushrooms into the batter and turned the heat down to let the mixture combine. The kettle started to whistle and I fetched a mug from the cupboard.

I stared at the ceramic, pursing my lips as Arlo weaved in and out of my legs, looking for attention. I got another mug down and poured the hot water into both.

The scrambled eggs were finished by then and Arlo decided to go back to breakfast, licking around the rims of his bowl happily. I served up two plates of eggs, and poured milk into the two cups of tea and brought them into the lounge room.

To no one's surprise, the man was still unconscious, but what was great to see was the soft and gentle rise and fall of his chest. I sighed inwardly, sliding into the chair next to him and placing his meal and drink on the coffee table.

Arlo sat near the armchair, laying down on his belly and staring at the intruder. I was about to chomp into my first mouthful of scrambled eggs when the man on my couch gasped to life.

I dropped my fork.

Arlo started barking like a maniac.

Scrambled eggs smeared the wooden floorboards and my Golden Retriever was snapping his teeth angrily at the intruder. The person in question twitched against the cotton sofa, his chest inflating rapidly.

I quickly placed my plate on the coffee table, turning to my dog to hush his insistent barking.

"Arlo," I hushed, running my fingers over his head. "It's okay boy. He's not going to hurt us..."

My lips curled uncomfortably. "...I hope."

I swallowed thickly and turned back to the couch, my hand resting on Arlo's collar to keep him from jumping at the handsome man. I watched carefully as the guy's eyes popped open and he looked around.

My heart almost stopped in my chest. His eyes were like sapphires, pale blue and burning with passion and confusion. Mostly confusion. He let out a groan, leaning up from the couch, his muscular body flexing under the ceiling light.

He looked around, running his hands through his damp hair. He stared at the mantelpiece, the coffee table and then he turned his attention towards my twitchy dog and me.

His pale eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, but a spurt of blood came out instead. He let out a choked gasp, a hand coming to his chest. The bandage on his chest peeled away at his sudden movement, which caused one of the stitches to untie.

My eyes widened in shock and I hurried to the couch side, my knees slamming against the wooden floorboards. Arlo followed closely behind, unnervingly quiet, watching intently with big black eyes.

I reached for where I'd left the medical kit, and took out some bandages and wipes. My heart was racing and my hands were shaking like I was about to explode.

The man suddenly stood up, probably ripping even more stitches by the painful expression on his face. He was taller then I could've ever imagined, towering over Arlo and I like a skyscraper.

"W-Where..." his voice is a deep rumbling timbre, like waves crashing against rocks, he looks confused and hurt. "Where the hell am I..."

His fist comes forward, the bandages on his wrists unravelling and blood splattered across my wooden floor. I ducked his powerful thrust, the breathe leaving my lungs in a panicky swoop.

Arlo stands strong, barking defiantly at the man. His teeth nip at his damp jeans and Arlo starts shaking his head furiously, the man stumbles in surprise, landing back on the couch, groaning in pain as another stitch is plucked from his chest.

I stand carefully, watching his eyes trail me, unsure and suspicious. The bandages and wipes are still clutched in my hand, my knees are shaking uncontrollably, I'm terrified.

"You're bleeding," I said shakily. "Let me help."

"Y-You..." he trails off, blood trickling through his fingers. "What...?"

"I can help," I promised. "I'm a medical student."

The man's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he looked down at his chest, the deep gashes running down his ribs.

"You...want to help?" I shiver at the tone of his voice and nod my help.

"You popped open some stitches, and undid your bandages," I explained carefully. "If you let me, I can fix it."

He's staring at me again, but this time he doesn't look confused or angry, more so perplexed and bewildered. I watched his eyes flicker from pale blue to this amazing amber colour, like sundrops.

"I was fighting..." he blinked hard, scratching his beard. "Where am I?"

"Um..." I wasn't sure if that was a generalisation or not. "...Australia?"

The man's nose wrinkled in confusion and I watched his neck tense up in hesitation. He took a deep breath and sighed through his nose and ran his hand over his face in dread. My lips curled inwards and I figured that was a sign to not push for any more answers.

He laid back against the couch as I took his hand and began to reapply the bandages to both of his forearms. He wasn't fussed at all with the alcoholic wipes, or the gauze, it seemed like he didn't feel any pain whatsoever.

That was until I started redoing his stitches. It was quiet and awkward the entire time I fixed him up. I could feel his eyes staring bores into my skull every time I weaved the needle through his flesh. He winced a little when I applied to much pressure to his torso.

"I-I saw you wash up on the beach," I managed to get out, my voice timid and trembling. "I thought you were dead, but then I checked your pulse."

"And you saved me..." he's looking down at me, his eyes are so intense I can feel my heart bouncing in my chest. My cheeks burn and I'm positive he can see how flustered I am.

"...well," I'm stuttering like a schoolgirl. "I didn't want you to die..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Even though I tried to punch you a moment ago?"

I'm flushed and staring down at my bloody fingers for what seems like the fifth time this morning. I don't dare to look up because I know the impressive, god-like man is staring right at me.  
  
"What's your name?" he suddenly asks, and my lungs shrivel up to peanut size.

"(Y/N)." I said, licking my lips. "And this is Arlo." Arlo is sitting by my side, wagging his tail. When he hears his name, he barks delightfully, dark eyes twinkling.

The man tilts his head to the side and grins for the first time. It's gorgeous and by god is he handsome and his teeth are perfect and I think I might be being creepy.

"I'm Arthur." he muses, reaching forward to let Arlo sniff his fingers. My doggo hesitantly sniffs him, before his tail starts swaying back and forth playfully.

"I made you some breakfast..." I say softly, standing up and moving to the side, shuffling Arlo along with my feet. Arthur's gaze closes in on the scrambled eggs and mug sitting on the coffee table. He then looks back up and catches my eye.

"Thanks," he says gruffly. "For everything."

He's then digging into his food, shovelling everything down, taking small breaks to chug down the now presumably lukewarm tea.

"You're most welcome." I managed to stammer out.

Arthur sends me a stray glance, eyes twinkling. My heart is pounding and my muscles are buzzing and I'm pretty sure I could get used to Arthur looking at me like that.

~

"Why do you have so many teacups?" Arthur asked from my living room, gazing into the display cupboard.

Arthur's been here for almost two weeks recovering from his injuries and it's probably been the most fun I've had since moving here. I've learnt all about his world and where he comes from.

Initially finding out your temporary roommate is Aquaman, the King of Atlantis, and a member of the Justice League was very hard to swallow. But after a few days with Arthur sleeping on my couch, it sunk in fairly well until it was somewhat of a norm. Having a Meta-Human cook you dinner, walk your dog during and make you blush wasn't nearly as bad as it sounded.

If it could even be a bad thing.

"They're my grandmothers," I explained, standing up to gaze into the glass cupboard as well. "She loved to collect them."

Arthur stares at the shelving, eyes trailing over the ceramic moulding of each mug, each saucer, and the swirling colours brimming from each cup. He then turns to me, blue eyes soft and expression airy.

I can't quite pick apart his thoughts, but I know it's something grave from the way he holds his jaw, tense and uncomfortable. My hand comes to his huge bicep, fingers grazing over the tattooed flesh, bringing his attention back to the world.

"They're special to me, " I muse, running my finger over the glass. "Just as this house is special to me."

Arlo barks in agreement, turning both our heads. He's sitting in the kitchen hallway, ears floppy and tail wagging. A small chuckle rumbles from Arthur's chest and he takes a slow breath.

"Grandma left me her house in the will," I said softly. "She'd loved the beach, and so do I."

Arthur's staring at me with a different kind of expression now, a smile tugging at the ends of his lips, and his pupils dilating into small dots of sparkling charcoal.

And I'm completely lost in his stupid eyes.

~

Arthur had never been to a Pet-Cafe before. And _boy_ was it an experience.

He was laughing, giddy and smiling as kittens climbed his jeans like a rock wall. A goat is bleating at his feet, nudging his thighs for attention. Tree frogs are croaking from their little rainforest enclosures and blue tongue lizards waddle around, munching on worms.

"How'd you find this guy, (Y/N)?" A friend of mine murmurs as we both watch Arthur interact with the little kittens clawing at his ankles. Arthur's snickering as he plucks the tiny felines from his jeans and brings them up to dangle on his shoulders.

"He found me." I'm blushing into my coffee mug, watching him be happy was making my insides tingle. My friend laughed, rolling her eyes at me and nudging her elbow into my ribs.

"You don't just find a Greek _God_ , (Y/N)." She mused.

My eyebrows furrow, "Shush," I complain, swatting her elbow away from my ribcage. She's ruining my view of Arthur's smile.

People stare. People always stare. They always stare at him. But it doesn't seem to bother Arthur. He's never concerned about anything other than the moment he's in. Like his thoughts don't linger beyond the surface of his actions, like he's always got both his feet planted firmly into the ground.

Arthur's a gem. An enigma. A rarity. He's so down to earth, so humble, so happy-go-lucky it makes my heart heavy. I've never met anyone like him in my life, never seen anyone so comfortable in their own skin. He was one of a kind. One of a kind to me anyway.

I was certain that was impossible. I knew he thought of me as just a friend. From the way he squeezed me into hugs, almost snapping my vertebrae. Or the way his body language changed when I got too close. He just didn't see me that way, and I didn't blame him.

I was shy, short and astonishingly weak. My only good friend was a puppy dog, and I lived in a creepy little cottage near the beach. Why would he even consider me when he had friends like Diana Prince?

Wonder Woman was gorgeous. Literally stunning. She was all class and beauty, she was strong and powerful and had all the qualities of a leader.

I was just me. And I'm sure that would've been good enough for some regular dude. But Arthur was anything but regular.

"(Y/N)," Arthur's voice snaps me from my daze. I look up and see him trying to catch his breath from laughing too much. "Come over 'ere, look at this!"

My shoulders shake, trying to hide my amusement as I walk over, pulling a little ball of fluff from his hip. The kitten lets out a disappoint mew, before l I started rubbing his tiny head.

The ball of fur stretched his little appendages out in happiness and he started purring so loud his body trembled. I looked up at Arthur to see that he was already staring at me. He's been doing that a lot lately.

A kitten is clinging onto the collar of his shirt, eyes shut in a silent yawn. He glances at the kitten in my arms and then looks back at my face, his expression twitches into a huge grin, long ratty hair framing his face. I could feel my heart pounding, and my brain was spinning on a carousel.

"They really like you," I say softly, my face hurting from smiling so much.

And so do I...

~

"No fair..." I yelled, staring agape at Arthur's magnificent sandcastle. "You're cheating!"

"Bullshit," Arthur's grinning, shirtless and my heart is melting. "You just suck."

I narrowed my eyes at Arthur, crossing my arms over my chest. He's smirking, crossing his arms over his chest and flicking his hair, mocking me.

"What do you think Arlo," I say, looking over at the amused puppy. "You think he's cheating?"

Arlo tilts his head to the side, before letting out a terrific bark and galloping over to Arthur. I turn to stare at him, he's laughing at my expression as my dog leaps on him, attacking his face with slobber and licks.

"...Traitor." I accused, but Arlo doesn't even register my voice, having too much fun attacking Arthur with kisses.

~

It's was starlight night that changed everything.

Arthur liked the stars. I had found that out very quickly about him. I'd always spot him staring out the lounge room window, gazing up at the sky, a sad expression warping his features.

I never pushed him about. If he wanted to swallow his grief by staring out at the twinkling sunset, I wasn't going to stop him. In fact, it was probably one of the more healthy ways to overcome sadness.

But right now, Arthur was anything but sad.

The cool nightly wind washed over me, snapping me from my thoughts. I'm brought back to the startling reality of a night sky that's littered with tiny sparkling jewels.

"I still can't believe you're letting me crash with you," Arthur says softly, dazed by the Milkyway passing by slowly. I can feel his intimidating presence beside me, brimming with strength and heat.

I quirk a brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Arthur grunts a little as he turns over in the sand to look at me. "Any normal person would've kicked me out by now."

There's a pregnant pause between us and I can't seem to move my eyes away from the stars. I can feel an ugly tension building in my gut, and I try to swallow it down.

"What makes you think I'd kick you out?"

Arthur makes a sound that could've resembled an avalanche, but I can tell he's chuckling. "Cause I've been freeloading off you for almost a month now."

My eyebrows furrow into a line and I'm suddenly frowning as I turn to face him, looking into his intense tawny eyes. "B-But you've been injured..."

"So?" he scoffs, amused. "I can still walk and swim."

I go quiet again, eyes narrowed, staring wordlessly at Arthur. The necklace that dangles from his neck is spinning around, much like the heated thoughts in my brain.

I couldn't believe how conceited Arthur could be sometimes. He talks about mooching off me for weeks, then complains about my hospitality and brags about how well he is.

**Jerk.**

"Well if you're so fit," I'm glaring at him. "Why don't you just leave?"

I watch his expression fold and twist like a Rubix cube. He looks hesitant, lip curling inward in what seems to be thought. Suddenly, this flush of red swarms his face. I blink at him, the wrinkles on my forehead worsening. I'm pretty sure my eyes are betraying me because Arthur Curry doesn't blush.

I watch him swallow nervously.

"I don't want to leave."

Almost instantly it feels as though Arthur has run his fist straight through my stomach. I can't breathe properly and I'm trying desperately not to let it show. But Arthur was staring at me again and I felt as though my every expression was getting scrutinised.

I tried to calm my body, but my heart was doing a tribal dance inside my ribcage and my lungs have basically given up on me. Did I mention that Arthur was getting close?

So close that I could see soft, dark rings under his eyes. So close that I could smell the ocean breeze emanating off him. So close that I could feel his warm breath on my face, and see my reflection in his gorgeous iris'.

I start panicking, my heart was beating out of my chest and suddenly I was leaning in too fast and...

**Konk!**

Our foreheads slammed together in a clash of bone and flesh and I howled in pain. I felt myself scrambling to my feet, finally able to breathe again as I clutched my pounding temple.

Arthur followed me up, eyes trailing intensely over my expression as he got to his feet. I'm staring at the sand, trying my best to not get flustered under his gaze.

We almost just...

I shook my head, staring down at my sandy feet. I could feel myself burning up. My cheeks were practically on fire.

"I-I..." my tongue got all tied up in my mouth. "I...I think I need some sleep."

I can hear Arthur's faint protest, but I'm already speed walking back to the beach house, cheeks so hot you could fry an egg on them.

~

We never spoke of that incident ever again, and anything inadvertently sexual was banned from everyday conversation. Television shows we used to watch on Netflix were abandoned in favour for night time sitcoms and animated movies.

Things seemed to go back to normal pretty quickly. Soon enough we were back to swimming together, cooking together, walking together and doing practically everything together.

But of course, all good things must come to an end.

It had been in the middle of the night. I remembered because it had been extremely hot and I'd cranked up the fan to max and stripped all the sheets off the bed.

The first I heard was Arlo's obnoxiously loud barking. Then, a huge crash rattled from the living room. I was up in an instant, heart lodged in my throat.

I opened the bedroom door to see Arthur sauntering into the lounge completely shirtless. I went to step out of my room but glanced down at my feet to see shards of glass sprinkled across the floorboards.

A frown curled at my lip as I took an enormous step over the window shrapnel, but before I could even gain my bearings, a random dude in a black ski suit went flying past my head.

"Woah!" I yelped, swerving out of the way.

The intruder hit the corner of the hallway arch and crumpled to the groan, whimpering in pain like a baby seal.

My eyebrows furrowed as I walked down the hall and into the lounge room. A window was completely destroyed, the pane and wood splintered and showering the floor. Some guy was stuck in the coffee table, the wood cutting into his sides as his legs flailed, trying to get free.

Arlo was barking at the top of his doggo lungs, running around the lounge room distracting the strange robbers. The Golden Retriever sunk his teeth into the calve of a man who was attempting to attack Arthur from behind and the guy stumbled sideways and tripped on a piece of wood.

There were at least six guys, all attacking Arthur at once. I took another step forward as a guy flew past me and hit the mantelpiece, prompting my snowglobes to explode like a glitter bomb.

Arthur grunted as he grabbed one of the guys by the collar and threw him into the fall face first. I heard a disgusting crunch and watch as the guy slid down the fall, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Arthur turned just in time to elbow another guy straight in the teeth, I watched in awe as the poor guy blinked at Arthur before spitting out his two front teeth.

Arthur glared at him, grabbing him by the collar and tossing him through the broken window. I was thoroughly impressed and incredibly grateful of Arthur. He had single-handedly beat—

I didn't get to finish that thought because I felt something cold press against the side of my head. My blood turned to ice and my heart thumped so loud I thought it had torn through my skin. I froze up, my legs turning to jelly as a strange hand came to my shoulder and dug into my flesh, holding me still.

"You make one more move and I blow her brains out," a muffled voice warned, pushing me closer to the archway of the kitchen, forcing me to walk backwards, treading over broken glass and who knows what else.

Arthur stood at full size from across the room, and even in the dark, I could see his golden eyes glaring daggers at the intruder. His hair was ragged and tangled from fighting and his lips were curled into a dark scowl.

"Let go of her," Arthur snarled so fiercely I almost peed myself. "I won't ask twice."

"Didn't you hear me, freak?" I could hear the faint tremble in the attacker's voice as he walked me backwards. "One more move and I'll kill her."

Arthur went deadly quiet, looming in the shadows of my ruined lounge room. I could feel the barrel of the man's gun slipping from my temple because of all the sweat I'd managed to create.

I turned back to Arthur and for a fleeting moment, I saw horror in his eyes, which was quickly replaced by that brutally damaging glower. I licked my lips slowly, my veins tingling with anxiety.

That was until Arlo lunged at the intruder, chomping into his leg. The man stumbled for only a second, crying out in pain as he kicked Arlo away. I broke free from his hold and immediately ducked my head and rolled across the floor, trying to get as far away from the man as possible.

Now that I was out of the equation, Arthur was across the room in a matter of seconds, hurdling over the couch like an Olympian and wrapping his huge hand around the guy's neck.

The intruder's eyes bugged almost outside of his skull as he was lifted off his feet, the tips of his shoes scraping against the floor. Arthur's arm curled almost angrily, his grip tightening around the man's throat as he tossed them across the room.

He hit the front door and it flew off its hinges and onto the nature strip. I stared at Arthur, feeling Arlo nudge at my elbow with his wet nose. He turned to me, his chest flicked with what I assumed was blood and sweat.

"You okay?" He asked as he walked over and helped me to my feet.

"Y-Yeah..." I was a little dazed, but I managed to stand. "I'm alright."

Arthur stared at me, seemingly unconvinced. I shrugged at his expression, trying to brush off the strange, brooding sentiment lingering behind his eyes. I would've reciprocated the question, but his silence scared me.

I could still feel the adrenaline buzzing in my veins, and my heart refused to settle. I stared down at my feet, my hands trembling at my sides.

Arthur put a hand on my shoulder, it was heavy and warm. I swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

"Stay here," he commanded, eyes searing into my own. I licked my lips absentmindedly, wondering with burning curiosity what had made him so mad. Nevertheless. I didn't dare refuse him.

I watched him reach for my phone on the kitchen counter and dial a number. My gaze didn't linger for long, as I turned back to my completely destroyed lounge room.

In any other situation, I would've been boiling with rage. But Arthur had saved my life, which was far more important than my attachment to materialistic objects.

Even so, my heart was heavy. I'd spent six months working a dirt poor job to do up the living room from my grandmother's old-timey furniture, and it was destroyed. The mantelpiece was covered in blood, the couch was ripped to shreds, my coffee table had been used as a weapon and my tea cupboard was completely demolished.

Arlo stood next to me, his tail uncharacteristically stagnant. I stared at the crushed tea cups covering the floor, a broken teapot handle lay near Arlo's feet.

I let out a long, sad sigh, but I didn't cry. They were just things, and my memories of grandma would always be with me. However, something else was bothering me much more.

Arthur has risked his life for me, and now he was having a heated discussion with someone on my phone? I could hear his deep voice grumbling from across the room, but I didn't listen in. He'd told me to stay here and that's what I was going to do.

"I'm sorry about your grandmother's tea sets," Arthur said suddenly, his voice tickling my ear. I would've jumped in my skin if I had any more adrenaline left in me.

I turned to look at him. The darkness was still hiding behind his eyes, but it was clashing with worry and a spoonful of crushing anxiety. My lungs deflated in my chest at his heavy expression.

"They're just things, Arthur," I said softly.

He shakes his head, his arm weaving itself around my waist. "...you said they were special to you,"

My heart warmed up at his words, skipping around in my chest. I know I was blushing like a beetroot, but I lifted my hands up to drape around his shoulders.

"So are you."

I watch Arthur's expression change almost instantly and his eyes sparkle. A smirk quirked at the corners of his lips and his head cocked to the side, smouldering at me.

A butterfly that had managed to escape my stomach was fluttering around in my ribcage, poking holes in my heart until I could barely stand. I trembled in his arms, my knees on their way to crumbling. Arthur wrapped me up completely in his arms, a content sigh pulling at his lips.

The saltiness in Arthur's sigh took my breath away and I stuttered helplessly. The way he was leaning into me made me melt to my very core like a cheap candle. Arthur seemed to enjoy my reaction because his shoulders relaxed.

I didn't seem to notice that Arthur was leaning in closer to me until he was a hands width away from my lips. I could feel every single twitch of his muscles and yet I hadn't noticed that?

Before I could even scold myself, his lips were against my own. I wasn't sure what triggered it, it could've been a multitude of things meshed together into a heated kiss; what'd I'd said? What had happened? That look in his eyes?

I decided that overthinking the kiss while it was still happening wasn't a good idea, so I pushed it aside.

Arthur's hands tightened against my hips as my fingers threaded into his hair. It was hot and gentle, but it left me singed and flushed. Arthur was a gentleman, but the way he kissed me made me think the exact opposite.

I was used to not breathing around Arthur, so I had no problem in drawing out the kiss for as long as I could. But when we broke away, I was in a complete daze.

How could someone so huge and so boyish have lips like that? Soft and ticklish, but bruising and passionate. I didn't have time to think about it because Arthur's presence demanded attention...specifically mine.

I stared at him, tingles rippling across my lips. He smiled at me for a fleeting moment before squeezing me close.

"I almost lost you today," he said breathlessly, his forehead resting against my own. A tweak of hurt touches my chest when I look at him, but it melted away at the sincerity in his eyes.

"Not really," I said, my fingers twirling loops into his hair. "Arlo had it under control. And you helped a little as well."

~


End file.
